Just Like You Wanted, Right?
by Ashtarok
Summary: Please note: I do not self abuse. I do not have suicidal thoughts. This is merely a part of my imagination.     Jayy is in pain. He wants to end it. And he'll do anything to do it.     BOTDF Blood On The Dance Floor Yaoi Angst Cutting Self Harm Suicide


_**Red **_

_**Trickles**_

_**Trickles down my arm**_

_**My special little secret**_

_**Known as self harm.**_

Shaking. Trembling. Quivering. It's so dark. So cold. I've used up all my meth and I'm suffering from withdrawal. I haven't eaten in four days yet my stomach pitches and rolls like a storm-tossed boat. It's a struggle not to vomit. My cheeks burn with fever and my throat aches like a bitch.

_**Darkness**_

_**Soothing**_

_**Soothing my pain**_

_**Trusted you with my heart**_

_**Yet I fell again.**_

I manage to drag myself into a sitting position. The couch is where I've been resting the last few days and it reeks of cigarettes, alcohol, drugs and piss. Hell, my whole apartment smells like that. I stumble up, clutching a blanket around my emaciated body, and begin shuffling to the bathroom.

_**I've had**_

_**Enough**_

_**Enough, I say**_

_**Going slit my fucking wrists**_

_**Feel my life slip away.**_

The lightswitch avoids my clumsy hand at first and I have to grope for it several times before the dingy bulb blinks on. Even though the light is dim I still squint and flinch, as used to darkness as a cockroach is. The cracked, stained mirror shows me my reflection: a sunken, thin face with pale skin and gaunt cheekbones. My stained fingernails clutch at the marbled surface of the sink.

_**I'm**_

_**Done**_

_**Done with the lies**_

_**Like you ever cared about me**_

_**Deaf ears heard my cries.**_

I used to be so pretty. Everyone loved my body. I was a sex god. I had my choice of men, and women. But of course I had to choose the one guy I could never have. Self disgust flows over me in a familiar wave. My eyes squeeze shut. Hatred pounds through my sickly frame. And then... nothing. I feel _nothing._

_**Perhaps a **_

_**Bullet**_

_**Bullet to my head**_

_**That's one way to make sure**_

_**I end up dead.**_

Panicking, I throw open the medicine cabinet, fingers searching desperately for a razor. I seize the pack and, nearly shaking with relief, yank it down. Fuck. _Fuck. _It's empty. I slam the door closed and throw the empty plastic container into the trash. My reflection seems to taunt me.

_**Pills are too**_

_**Easy**_

_**Easy, like falling asleep**_

_**Just quiet serenity**_

_**Until you're in too deep.**_

Scars and fresh wounds marr my skin, some so recent they still bleed sluggishly. My hair falls limply, sweat sticking my bangs flat to my face. Haunted, black eyes seem to beg for mercy. Anger pulses through me and I welcome it like a long-lost brother. Anything is better than the blankness.

_**I'll stay with**_

_**Cutting**_

_**Cutting, just across the veins**_

_**That's all it takes**_

_**To end my pains.**_

I smash my fist into the mirror, cracks spider-wedding out from the contact. Again. Again and again until my knuckles are a bloody pulp and the silver surface is a shattered mess. That's better. The rage calms somewhat and hate, hate for me, hate for my situation, hate for Dahvie, crowds in. I use a nail to yank out a nice, sharp chunk of mirror.

_**I want**_

_**One**_

_**One last goodbye**_

_**A final chance to stop me**_

_**I doubt you'd even try.**_

The edge is jagged and I smile grimly. The less even the blade, the longer the cuts take to heal. I'm wearing nothing but my boxers and a blanket and I easily shed both. Even though I've broken the mirror, I can still see the thousands of marks upon my skin. Rows of long, thin slices; deep, short stabs; some burns, even a few scars that spell out words.

_**I **_

_**Love**_

_**Love you but you never cared**_

_**I poured out my soul for you**_

_**But yours you never bared.**_

I've got Hatred on my thigh, Death over a shoulder, Slut right above my cock, Faggot on my hip and Dahvie over my heart. Damn Dahvie... If only he'd loved me back. Then I would never be here. I'd be beside him, singing more songs, fucking him every night. But he never wanted more. Tears clog my throat as I put fresh wounds over scabs and scars.

_**Now the**_

_**Time**_

_**Time has come**_

_**I'm done with all the shit**_

_**The drugs no longer numb.**_

My eyes blur and I want to scream. Normally the cuts make it better. The pain floods in and everything's okay for awhile. But not today, today, it doesn't hurt, not nearly enough. The ache in my chest is so much worse than the one where the blade sinks in to yielding flesh.

_**Two**_

_**Careful**_

_**Careful slits**_

_**Finally time**_

_**To call life quits.**_

God, it's not enough. My wrists are wrecked and blood's literally dripping onto the floor but it's _not enough! _I can't take anymore. The pain in my body and spirit seem to throb together, before the one in my flesh fades away altogether. My heart hurts. It hurts so bad. I can't deal with this pain.

_**Grey **_

_**Fuzzes**_

_**Fuzzes my vision**_

_**Remember you are the one**_

_**Who caused my decision.**_

In a sudden burst of inspiration and panic I seize the mirror fragment again. I slice my wrists in the one spot I'd stayed away from in the past: right over my main arteries

I do it twice more, just to make sure. I feel kinda dizzy after that and an idea comes to me. My palms slice easily and turn to the bathroom wall. In blood, I manage to get a sloppy heart with D + J in the center.

_**Everything**_

_**Fades **_

_**Fades to white**_

_**No longer locked inside**_

_**Free to take flight.**_

I'm too dizzy to stand after that and my eyesight's more than a little blurry. So this is what it feels like to die. Dissapointing, really. Surprisingly anticlimatic. At least it no longer hurts. Everything's just soft and warm and fuzzy. Maybe I'm going back to live inside my mother's womb. It probably felt just like this.

My last thought is of Dahvie. And then...

Nothing.

_**Just what I wanted.**_


End file.
